Far From The Frenzied Crowd
by mryddinwilt
Summary: In Regency England, the independent and headstrong shipping company owner Emma Swan attracts three very different suitors: Killian Jones, a sailor; Neal Cassidy, a reckless sergeant; and Graham Hunt, a prosperous and mature bachelor. Roughly based on "Far From The Maddening Crowd" by Thomas Harding.


She should say yes. Women like her don't refuse offers of marriage. Penniless and headstrong and unlikely to get another marriage proposal and certainly not from a handsome naval officer. As a good English girl her choice should be simple, she should say yes.

She can't.

"Lieutenant Jones. I…"

The wind from the sea snatches at her hair and whips her long skirts. She stares at his chest, at the white starch of his vest and the bright blue of his coat. She barely knows him. They had met only a month ago. He had arrived in his uniform at the tiny seaside cottage she shared with her Aunt Ruby with her scarf in his hand. He had somehow found it and known it was hers despite her having lost it while rambling the coastal cliffs far from the house. Emma had thought him handsome and kind and when he asked to escort her to the market she had agreed. Then he kept coming back. He would help her collect clams in the tidewater or keep her company as she scrubbed clothes in the washbasin or prepared a meager dinner. He was on shore leave and Emma assumed he had no better way to spend his time. She was too poor for him to consider her worthy of marriage and he seemed uninterested in a simple tryst. Being with him was comfortable and she felt they were friends despite her aunt's knowing smiles.

He was to set sail soon and had arrived that morning dressed smartly and carrying a gift under his right arm. She had smiled and thanked him, never dreaming that the ship in a bottle was a precursor to his proposal. But he had proposed and now was waiting for her answer.

She should say yes.

"I have nothing to offer you," she whispers.

"I don't need a dowry. I will take care of you. I won't be a Lieutenant forever, Emma." At the sound of her name she looks up into his eyes and sees the depth of emotion there. "Liam is already a Captain and I plan to follow him. When I have my own ship you can sail with me. You can see the world just like you dreamed."

She bites her lip. He is handsome, he is kind, he wants to take care of her, he wants to make her happy but she is quite certain she doesn't love him. She enjoys his company, she likes his humor, she respects his sense of duty and honor and his love for his older brother Liam but those things didn't amount to love. Many women marry without love and live peaceful and comfortable lives but Emma had never wanted a peaceful or comfortable life and she certainly didn't want to be dependent on a husband.

Emma Swan could take care of herself, she had been taking care of herself since she became an orphan at eight years old. Her Aunts and Uncles had rotated providing her a home and food but she often got lost in the shuffle; never really wanted or needed just a burden to be carried. Now that she was, at nineteen, finally old enough to stand on her own she never wanted to be carried again even by a man like Lieutenant Killian Jones.

She shakes her head. "I don't want a husband. Were I ever to marry I would want someone who was my equal and you are too far above me. I would always feel as if you had married me to save me and I would come to hate you for it."

He steps closer and she can smell the fresh soap on his uniform. She meets his pale blue eyes and she can see that she has hurt him with her words. She smiles at him hoping to diffuse the tension.

"So you see it would never work."

He smiles back but the pain stays in his eyes.

"I wouldn't be saving you Emma," he whispers. He raises his hand as if to caress her cheek and then drops it. He was always so prim and proper, never touching her unless to offer assistance. Even now as he begged for her hand he resisted the urge to touch her and a small part of her wishes he would give in, if only a little.

She shakes her head. "Thank you Killian, truly." She reaches out and grasps his hand shocked by it's warmth as she squeezes it. "But I will not marry you."

She releases his hand and steps back. She waits for him to press his suit for surely if he truly loves her he won't give up so easily. But he only looks at her for a long moment his eyebrow slightly raised in thought. Then he abruptly takes a step back and executes a swift bow.

"I apologize for wasting your time. Ms. Swan."

Then he turns and walks away; leaving her alone on the beach. Emma stands and watches him listening to the crash of the waves and convinces herself that she made the right choice.

Aunt Ruby takes the disappearance of the Lieutenant with a sigh but doesn't scold her niece for her decision. Nine months later she does mention that Killian Jones was assigned to his brothers ship "The Jewel of the Realm". But otherwise they do not speak of him and their life continues peacefully. Until the peace is shattered by the news of her Uncle Leroy passing. They are too poor to attend the funeral but they mourn him all the same. He had a sour disposition and a gruff way with everyone but he had always been kind to Emma. And in death he proves how truly kind he was.

"Emma!" Ruby is running down the beach and Emma straightens from her bucket. She wipes her hands on her apron and watches curiously at her aunt's frenzied progress. "Your Uncle!" she says breathlessly and thrusts the paper into her hand. Before Emma can read it she is explaining. "He left you everything!"

A quick read of the letter confirms her words. Leroy, owner and operator of the small but prosperous Nova Shipping, has left her everything; his house, his ships, his company.

Despite the excitement of becoming an heiress Emma feels trepidation at the responsibility awaiting her in her new life. She wishes Ruby could come with her but her aunt insists she is too old to move and promises to write often. So in a scant 6 days Emma finds herself climbing into a carriage and heading to her new home. The house is large and modern on a fashionable street yet close to the docks and her warehouses and office. Emma still feels like a stranger wandering its halls the night Mr. Clark arrives in a panic.

"Fire! Warehouse! Fire!" he sputters between coughs and sneezes. Emma rushes after him jumping into the waiting carriage. As they careen through the streets she cranes her head out the window and catches sight of a dull orange glow from the docks. Her heart hammers in her chest keeping time with the clattering of the hooves on the cobblestone. They arrive with a jittering stop and Emma takes a deep breath before exiting.

In the center of her modest courtyard, ringed by warehouses, is a laden wagon burning bright and hot. The goods in the wagon are lost but miraculously the rest of the buildings and cargo seem unscathed. A few smolder where flames had been doused but the catastrophe seems to have been averted. Before she can breath a sigh of relief there is a shout and she spins to see the roof of her newest warehouse, the one full of spices from the Orient, burning. Her hand flies to her mouth if they lost the spices it wouldn't matter if they had the buildings.

A blazing shingle clatters to the ground and only then does she see the dark figure on the roof. A man battling with the fire and somehow dislodging the flaming wood and sending it to the ground like a shooting star. Once on the ground others rush to stamp out the fires. Emma spins on Mr. Clark.

"Who is that?" she asks pointing at the figure single-handedly saving her business. The short man only shrugs his shoulders. A shout has her turning back to the chaos in the yard and she realizes that Mr. George is nowhere to be found. He is the General Manager and by all rights should be there saving the warehouse, saving the cargo and the company. She takes charge of the situation organizing the buckets and the injured and as she works she realizes she doesn't need a general manager. She can do it herself.

Hours later the fires are gone and the pink of dawn is starting to lighten the horizon. Emma feels triumphant and relaxed. She had been intimidated by the prospect of taking over the company but having faced a fire she feels like she can face anything. Mr. Clark approaches and points out a tall figure on the far side of the warehouse.

"That's the man from the roof. He doesn't work here. They say he just showed up out of nowhere and started shouting orders. We might have lost everything if not for him." Clark punctuates his news with a fit of sneezing and Emma waves him away. She strides across the courtyard with long, sure steps. The man is turned away drinking from a ladle as she stops behind him.

"Sir. I have to thank you for your assistance. Without you my livelihood would be lost." His shoulders stiffen at her words and he turns slowly.

"Lieutenant Jones!" She gasps in recognition. His face is streaked in black soot, his eyes bloodshot from the stinging of the smoke, and his once sparkling white clothes are dirty and singed but he is the same man.

"I'm not a Lieutenant," he responds flatly his eyes darting down and away.

Emma blushes. "Sorry. I mean Captain." She twists her hands together behind her back.

He shakes his head. "Not Captain. I am no longer in the Navy."

Questions swim in her mind but she pushes them all back. "Well, in any case, thank you. You saved my warehouse and most likely my company."

His eyebrows rise, his forehead corrugating in confusion. "Your company?" He looks around the yard and she wonders what he thinks of the reversal of her fortunes.

"My Uncle left it to me."

He fixes her with his bloodshot eyes. "I saw the fire and came to help. I didn't know it was your company."

"If you had known would it have made you more or less likely to offer your assistance?"

She stares at him earnestly. He meets her eyes but doesn't answer her question and she wonders what his feelings for her might be after all this time.

"Mistress!" The yell breaks the moment and she remembers that she still has much to do.

She turns to leave.

"Do you need a dockhand?" he says a little too loudly.

She turns in surprise. "You want to work for me?"

"I need to work." His voice is hard and bitter and he refuses to look at her. "And most employers aren't interested in a disgraced and maimed sailor." He waves his left arm and she sees that in place of his hand he has a hook.

She bites her lip holding back her questions even as her eyes stare at his attachment. There is a story, something horrible has happened to him, taking his hand and reducing him to begging for work. The idea of having him in her employ unsettles her but she can't turn him away not when he saved the warehouse, not when he is desperate.

"Come to the office tomorrow morning and I will find you a place."

His eyes flash in surprise but he gives her a quick bow. "Thank you. Ms. Swan. You won't regret it."

She nods and walks away knowing he is wrong; she already regrets her decision.

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 **A/N: This will only be a few chapters long and will roughly follow the "Far From The Maddening Crowd" movie plot- not the book which is slightly different. Updates will likely be slow but it will be finished so give it a follow or better yet a review if you have something to say!**


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